THE PORCELAIN DOLL
by SilverWolf1999
Summary: just a drabble I couldn't help but write down, not really related to the books. kind of exploring the darkside of magical creatures and how the mix with the muggle world. The creatures that lurk under your bed. I always hated porcelain dolls anyway


THE PORCELAIN DOLL

Like every other night I left the lights on, but Mother came to turn them off. When the door closed behind her I took out my phone from under the pillow and turn it on, but the faint light from the screen only served to cast ominous shadows on the face of the porcelain doll. It stood there in the shelf at the corner of my room, watching.

It's not that I'm scared; I'm too old to be scared. At my age you're not supposed to be scared of dolls, even if they stand there in the corner of your room, watching with those glassy dead eyes.

It has round perfect green eyes, the sort of eyes that seem to be always watching, always. It had smooth, pale skin, almost sickly pale. It's placid smile, those glossy, perfect, red tinted lips.

When there's an adult in the room it doesn't look the same, is like another face, another attitude, it changes, and it shows. It's like its laughing at me, mocking!

At times I wonder if it was some kind shady deal with some dark entity.

Where we used to live there was no space for the doll so it was kept in a box. It could have gotten lost or broken when we moved, but it didn't. Lots of things were lost or got broken, but the box didn't.

It's a toy; I know it's a toy! It's a doll. How can it be that a toy for a child can look so vile? Maybe it's because it is made trying to look just too close to reality. So it becomes a mockery of life, an uncomfortable shadow that is at the same time to close but too different.

I remember the first nights with the doll, the feeling of those green eyes staring at me. That smile seemed especially pleased those nights. That time Mother was on a business trip. It was my chance to get rid of that thing! Carefully I took it outside my room. That was enough for the day tomorrow I would deal with it. That night I returned home and ran to my room, so tired I was ready to fall dead on my feet. That's when I saw it, standing there again in the corner of my room, watching. Later that night I would discover that my mother had returned home a week earlier than expected and she was the one to move the doll back into my room, but that would be much, much later that night.

I wonder if I should turn on the lights on, but I would have to get out of bed, out of safety. That's a silly thought! What difference would being in bed be? But what if when I turn back it's not in the corner but on the bed, standing still, watching, or would it be moving wildly with a feral grin and bloodshot eyes? I'm not sure if I should stare at it or don't look at all. What if I stare for too long and start getting tired? If I close my eyes or they start playing tricks at me? What if they weren't tricks at all? And its smile did turn bigger her eyes did flicker red for a second? Wasn't it staring ahead? Why is it turned towards me now? And if I don't look at all? No, I can't turn my back to it, it's worse than not looking, it's worse if I don't know! Should I hide under my covers? And if it tries to choke me then? I can't lock my door at night; I can't close my window either!

What if one day I actually saw it move? Would I scream? Often, in dreams, you try to scream but you can't, or you do, but nobody hears. Would someone hear me? I think the worst thing of all is the waiting, if it's going to move why hasn't it done it yet? Maybe it takes pleasure in that, seeing me squirm, why else would it wait so long?

I don't know how long I shifted about in the bed, waiting, because I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. How could I sleep?

When I opened my eyes I noticed the first rays of dawn coming through the window. I couldn't believe I had given in to sleep! I gave a sigh of relief, finally it was all over. I could help but laugh at myself and all those silly thoughts. I was being just childish. Under the light of day last night's fears seem ridiculous. It was late; I was tired and wasn't thinking well.

I sat up and got out of bed. The room was again comforting and familiar in daylight, everything in its place.

That's funny.

Wasn't the doll on the shelf's right side last night, instead of being on the left where it is right now?

Was I dreaming? Am I remembering wrong?

It couldn't have moved.

Right?


End file.
